


Murray Loves His Dramatic Children

by FanGirlAndProudOfIt



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, M/M, i needed to know how these two reacted, post year three finale, protective dads hall & murray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 16:13:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13321830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanGirlAndProudOfIt/pseuds/FanGirlAndProudOfIt
Summary: “This is kind of our fault, you know.”“What do you mean ‘kind of’?” Murray laughs. “This is at least seventy percent our fault.”Hall and Murray react to the Stanley Cup Kiss.





	Murray Loves His Dramatic Children

‘Surprised’ is the wrong word. Murray hadn’t exactly expected the Stanley Cup final to end with his favorite former team captain kissing his current team captain, but seeing as it’s Bittle and Zimmermann, it’s not exactly outside the realm of possibility. Zimmermann may have a “Hockey Robot” reputation, but the kid has a flair for the dramatic that’s actually hilarious once you understand his personality. (Game winning goal in the final seconds of final overtime?  _ Really _ , Jack?) And Eric Bittle iss the living embodiment of thinking with your heart.

“Huh,” says Hall, sitting to his left. He’s the only other person in the bar not completely shocked. “That’s one way to do it.”

Murray snorts. “You expected any different?”

“Not really,” Hall replies, with a smile. “This is kind of our fault, you know.”

“What do you mean ‘kind of’?” Murray laughs. “This is at least seventy percent our fault.”

While Jack had clearly disliked Bittle at the time, both Murray and Hall had recognized the chemistry while seeing them play. So while putting them on the same line was definitely a strategic move, Murray would be lying if he said they weren’t playing matchmaker just a little bit.

Murray isn’t sure how the other boys hadn’t seen it (particularly Knight). Maybe there’s something to be said about being slightly removed from a situation to see it clearly, but Jack, for all his savvy and grace on the ice, has the subtlety of a freight train everywhere else. Bittle is no different. He’s far more emotionally intelligent than Jack, but he still spent most of his sophomore year blushing in Jack’s presence. And, much to Murray’s eternal exasperation, they would both stare longingly at each other when the other wasn’t looking.

Even Hall, who by the nature of his position wasn’t as close to the players as Murray, could see it.

They sit in silence for a moment, both observing the pandemonium. The media is already going crazy, replaying the kiss over and over again and identifying the “Mystery Man” within minutes. The bar, previously filled with the noise of drunken celebration, is filled with the muted murmurs of the other patrons. Some look shocked. Others bewildered. Still others look angry. The kind of disgusting macho anger that could only come from a place of hate. Murray feels his hand tighten on his beer.

He remembers when he first met Bittle in person. He was a sweet kid, but clearly uncomfortable around so many large jocks. The look on the poor kid’s was as he watched those animals devour his pecan pie was funny until it became heartbreaking. And the checking issue... Murray knows something must have happened to him in Georgia for that to develop.

It was that kind of bullshit macho anger that made Bittle as skittish and shy as he had been. 

Somewhere in the bar, some asshole declares that “the gays are ruining hockey”. It takes all of Murray’s self-control not to drop his gloves right there.

“They’re going to have a lot of shit thrown at them,” he says, instead. “Fucking vultures.”

Hall nods, clearly wanting to hit the asshole as well. “Same rules for when we had Jack. No reporters on campus unless Bittle says it’s okay. Anyone caught harassing him will have campus security on their asses before they can turn on their microphones. Photographers get their cameras thrown into the pond or donated to the arts department.”

“This time we keep the Swallow kids away from Faber,” says Murray.

“They’ll probably try to claim freedom of the press.”

“And we’ll say ‘right to privacy’ and point out that they’re a college gossip rag. Maybe we can’t protect Jack anymore, but they’re not fucking  _ touching _ Bittle.”

And fuck he  _ wants _ to protect Jack. Wants to shield him away from the press like he tried to do when he first got to Samwell. Reading about what happened to Jack broke his heart. But meeting him in person, seeing the aftermath of it, made the parent in him want to burn down ESPN daring to say his name. Murray had the privilege of watching Jack regain the light in his eyes. Fucking no one gets to try and extinguish it again.

“They’re adults, Jim,” Hall says halfheartedly.

“Like hell they are. They’re still my kids.”

He knows Hall feels the same way he does. Saw the look on his face when they met Bob and Alicia just before Jack’s freshman year. He wants to protect the boys just as much as he does.

The same asshole starts throwing around slurs, and Hall looks ready to throw his beer at him.

“We tell Jack to come to Samwell if he needs to be somewhere safe,” he says firmly. “Reporters can’t touch him there.”

“The frogs will be quivering in their skates.”

Hall grins. “I don’t think they’ll be nearly as afraid of Jack as they will be of Bittle. I heard him say something about soviet morning calisthenics. They won’t have the energy to be afraid of Jack.”

Murray grins and  shakes his head, looking back up at the TV. They’re replaying the kiss. Again. In spite of the apprehension, he smiles. He’s never seen either of them look so happy. Content.

“They look happy,” Hall muses.

“Exactly how they should be,” says Murray.

“I’m just proud of ‘em, honestly,” Hall says, raising his glass. “And if we helped get ‘em here, I think we’re pretty damn good coaches.”

Murray grins. “I’ll drink to that,” he says. They clink their beers together.

“And we better get an invitation to their goddamn wedding.”

Murray shrugs. “We’ll just crash if they don’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> No one else was doing it so I did.  
> Catch me on tumblr with this url, and my sideblog actualhockeyrobot.


End file.
